To Knowing Change May Come
by Eliza Moore
Summary: A sequel to The Truth About Forever. Wes and Macy just fit by the end of the summer. Learning what forever meant to Macy made her realize that life was meant to live. But as in everything, perfection isn't meant to last. When the Macy's senior year begins
1. Chapter 1

Wes and I just fit at the end of that summer. Learning what forever meant to me made me realize that things in life are meant to be celebrated. And Wes helped show me that. We were inseperable for the rest of the summer: going to the beach house, catering for Delia, babysitting Lucy and Avery, but most of all, playing Truth.

Kristy decided that our relationship is "romantical". We were no longer "tragical". Though, I'm sure I haven't heard the end of "tragical" occurences. For instance, the end of the world is said to be _tragical_. Bert highly disagrees. The end of the world will be a lot more than _tragical_. Monica doesn't have much input on this topic and Wes pretends he's not listening. I try to agree with both Kristy and Bert, but really; how much should I care?

Jason calls me sometimes. Every time I talk to him, it makes me realize more and more of how much we really didn't..._match_. I guess it just wan't meant to be. Bethany and Amanda can HAVE him. We're beyond finished.

Unfortunately, the start of the school year is tomorrow. Tomorrow is the beginning of the end. And at the beginning of the summer, I knew exactly what I was going to do with the rest of my life. But now, I have no idea. Should I be worried? I think so.

"Caroline, I don't want your purple sweater," I say for the last time. It's 7:30 on the night before the beginning of my senior year and Caroline is set on giving me all of the clothes she doesn't want anymore. I however, am not interested in most of the cothes. I do like that black t-shirt though. I take it.

"Macy," she sighs, clucking her tongue. I've been getting that a lot from her lately. The sighs and clucks. I think she's still trying to get used to the fact that I'm not the old Macy anymore and that I'm growing up. She still wants me to be the baby sister. What she doesn't realize is that I'll _always_ be the baby sister.

"Well, I don't wear purple or pink," I say in my own defense, folding the plain black t-shirt with the slight v-neck. I carefully smooth my hands over it, flattening the creases inch by inch.

"Macy, purple and pink are pastels that really flatter your appearence," she argues. I give in, taking the purple sweater with the plans of putting it at the bottom of my lowest drawer.

"Oh good. Now, I need to go because Wally and I have dinner reservations in 15 minutes. Good luck at school tomorrow," says Caroline, kissing my cheek. I wait for her footsteps to retreat and the front door to close before I Take all of the clothes and sort them into piles. On pile fore clothes I'll never wear. Another for clothes I'll wear if I have to. Another for clothes I might wear. And lastly, a pile for clothes I will wear. It's awfully small compared to the others. I carefully put them away, picking something that suits me for tomorrow. There's too much fuss going into this. They don't realize it, but everyone's making me nervous. If I hear one more sigh or cluck I don't know what I'll do.

Plopping onto my bed, my eye catches sight of the two sculptures Wes made. I carefully take the tiny angel into my hands, running my finger along his articulate handiwork. I'm all too reminded of how much I'm loved. And somehow, the forever I'm living seems all too short.


	2. Chapter 2

What is that absurdly annoying buzzing sound? I try to ignore it for a few minutes, grasping for those desired moments of slumber.

"Macy, get up!" I hear. The dreamland I was rebuilding comes crashing to halt and shatters to the floor. The buzzing is my alarm clock. I have school today. Begrudgingly, I get out of bed and walk past the outfit so neatly laid on my bed, courtesy of Caroline. My eyes half open, I slide out the drawer with my shirts folded neatly in it.

My eyes graze over the boring ones, most of what I own. The glint of something shimmery at the bottom of the cherry wood drawer causes me to double-take. My hand digs up the tank top that Kristy let me borrow. It would look nice under the white blouse Caroline coerced me into owning. Before I let my mind change itself, I grab the tank top, blouse, and a fairly modest denim skirt.

Before leaving my room, I turn my alarm off and glance at myself in the mirror. Going without a shower would be sinful. I suppose I should have expected it.

After a ten minute shower, and I'm dressed to my mother's satisfaction I climb into my car and I find myself in the hallways of my high school.

If Wes had been there, the day would have gone a lot quicker. Bethany and Amanda didn't dare look at me. Every time I looked at them, I was only reminded of my rebellious library-aide stunt. Frankly, I'm quite embarrassed even if Wes still thinks it was the coolest thing he's ever seen. I push the school door open and squint in the bright, direct sunlight. My eyes land on a familiar pick up truck and a tall guy standing next to it. A smile spreads across my face as I walk over.

"How was school?" Wes asks smirking, and then leaning down to give me a quick kiss.

"School is…school," I say for lack of a better description. He laughs as we both climb in his truck.

"I believe it's my turn to ask," I imply, straightening my skirt over my thighs as he turns the key in the ignition. The truck _vrooms_ and starts up.

"Really? I thought it was mine," Wes replies innocently, looking over the back of his seat as he backs out of the parking space.

"Two days ago you asked me why I hated my least favorite color. The next day, I asked you how you deal with Bert's constant talk about the end of the world. You countered and ask me how I deal with Caroline's constant talking and now it is my turn," I inform him.

"And she gets me again," says Wes, flicking the turn signal, rounding the corner out of the school driveway and flicking the turn signal off. His eyes have that glint they get when he knows I'm right and he's wrong. The amused, knowing glint that I've come to recognize.

"If you," I begin, "could pick one band that in your opinion, could save the world, who would it be and why?"

"That," he says, glancing over at me, "is easy. U2. They're already so involved in world affairs that they make differences. Not only that, they've been around for a long time and are still popular." Wes looks in the rearview mirror and then stops at a stop sign. He has that thoughtful look on his face. Slowly, he smiles.

"My mom liked them. She said that people with so much talent and money usually looked beyond the problems of the world and the fact that U2 didn't was an example everyone should follow. She always believed that everyone could make a difference if they just tried enough."

"That's sweet."

"Yeah," he replies. There's silence for a moment. "If you could make one difference in the world what would you do?"

His car pulls up in front of my house. I unbuckle my seat belt. Honestly, I've never thought about what he just asked me. I mean, how many people do? And then it comes to me, that's what Wish meant. Most people don't think about how they can improve the world they live in.

"I'll get back to you on that," I reply, closing the car door. He smiles as I turn and walk up the path to the front door.

"Macy," he calls. I turn around.

"You're not getting away without answering that," he says. His foot lands on the gas pedal and he drives away. I smile, because I know he won't let me get away with it. Trying to had never even crossed my mind.


	3. Chapter 3

I would fist off like to apologize to all of my readers. I do realize that I have not updated in many months. School became hectic, I was in the musical, and a few things went on at home and in my life. I know, there are no excuses. But I do send you my biggest apologies. Second off, I would like to thank you all. I cannot believe I have 17 reviews with merely two chapters. Thank you so much, those reviews mean a lot to me. You have no idea. Thank you. 3

I do not own any of Sarah Dessen's characters, plotlines, books, etc. I merely own what is not recognizable from _The Truth About Forever_.

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"Bert, could you drive _any_ faster!" Kristy exclaims. It's Friday night and I'm sitting in the back of the Bertmobile next to Wes. Burt's driving like a maniac. I'm not surprised and I don't know why Kristy is either. Monica slouches across from me.

"Donneven," Monica says, shaking her head in Kristy's direction. I just smile to myself. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else on Friday night. The ambulance lurches to a stop, tossing its contents all over the place. If Wes hadn't caught me, I'd be on the floor.

"Thank you," I say. He laughs, flashing a white-toothed smile.

"No problem," is his simple reply. After straightening ourselves out for a moment, we exit the back of the ambulance and out into the clear, crisp night. It's gotten colder, not since we've left but since the summer ended. Not the uncomfortable freezing cold, more of a breezy cold. One that doesn't bother you to much unless you let it.

The bonfire just off the shore glows in the dark blue sky. The sounds of laughter mixed with music, gossip, and the rolling waves waft into the parking lot.

"It feels like rain," Bert decides.

"No. Don't say that. Rain would be tragical at this point," snaps Kristy. Taking Wes' hand, he leads me down toward the orange mass of fire. It's beautiful, the way the flames flicker up towards the sky. It's an end-of-summer ritual, this bonfire. Even though school's already started, we all need the reminder of something good that's passed and just soak it all in.

"I'll get us drinks," Wes says, glancing at me for my approval before deserting me in the ocean of chatting people. I nod and smile as he walks off over a bright red cooler. The muscles in his toned back flex as he lifts the cover and reaches in.

"Aren't you going to dance, girly? Good God!" Kristy exclaims, twirling around me.

"I love how you're the only one dancing and it doesn't bother you one bit," I inform her. She smiles, glowing in the yellow-orange light. With that smile, the scars are barely even noticeable.

"That's what it's about, Macy. Just living it," she breathes, grabbing my hand and twirling me around. I can't help but laugh and twirl with her for a minute.

"Looks fun," Wes smirks from behind me. I turn around and he hands me a Root Beer, the can cold and wet in my grasp.

"You should let loose, Wes. Jeez," interrupts Kristy. Her eye then catches something on the other side of the beach. "Ooh…that one's a looker. I'm gonna go check him out." With that, she's gone. Wes once again grabs my hand and we make our way towards the empty side of the beautiful beach I've come to love. The cottage isn't too far away from here.

"GOTHCA!" comes straight out of the blue, knocking me off of me feet and causing me to erupt in a scream.

"OH MY GOD!" I exclaim. Wes, obviously trying not to laugh, helps me up. Bert stands behind me sheepishly.

"Sorry, Macy. That was meant for Wes," he apologizes. I sigh. Like I've said before, you can just never be ready for those surprise attacks.

"No problem, Bert," I reply, dusting myself off.

"Carry on with your…walk," he says, across the sand, towards Kristy.

"So, do you have an answer for me?" asks Wes, taking my hand again. It takes me a moment to realize what he's talking about.

"Ah, an answer. No I do not," I reply.

"Okay then. Just don't forget," he replies.

"Like I could forget," I tell him. He stops and wraps me in his arms, just looking at me. The distant sounds of the bonfire party waft down to where we're standing, but down here it's much quieter. Slight dabs of pink dot the horizon, but the sun has gone to light the other part of the world. Slowly, his lips descend onto mine, sending a tingle down my spine. I could stay like this. I could stay here and be happy for the rest of my life. Forever.


End file.
